


Tears

by miera



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-10
Updated: 2008-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-05 03:43:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the victory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://medie.livejournal.com/profile)[**medie**](http://medie.livejournal.com/)'s [Because We Are Awesome](http://medie.livejournal.com/1528746.html) challenge. The prompt was Elizabeth and "tears."

The day the last Hive ship was destroyed, Elizabeth Weir, leader of the Atlantis expedition, did something she hadn't done in nearly ten years.

She got completely and totally plastered.

It dimly registered late that night, through the haze of "oh-my-God so much alcohol" in her brain, that she was utterly blitzed. In such a state of inebriation, she couldn't remember exactly why that was a bad thing, or why she hadn't done this much more frequently, given the history of the last few years.

She remembered eventually, but even when she woke up, the hangover wasn't the first thing she noticed. The first thing she noticed was that Rodney was serving as her pillow, and a very comfortable one at that. John was cuddled up behind her on the cushions she didn't remember pulling off the couch. Radek was on Rodney's other side, slumped against Carson, both of them asleep or passed out sitting up.

Ronon was on the floor not far away with half a dozen people lying around and on top of him including Teyla, Kate and Evan, who was faceplanted into Ronon's shoulder. Beyond Ronon were more puppy-piles of people; Miko and Simpson and Cadman, Chuck and Stackhouse, mingled groups of Marines and scientists all haphazardly strewn across the floor and the furniture, all of them sleeping more or less peacefully. Like they had all simply laid down where they were when the alcohol became too much for them. Like not one of them had wanted to go off and sleep alone, not wanting to be apart from each other last night, even if many of them were too damn old to sleep on floors.

Tears stung her eyes, not from the fuzzy feeling on her tongue or the headache or the nausea that was starting to kick in even before she moved, but from sheer and overwhelming love for these people. All of these people, even her "problem children."

They made it. They survived. They _won_.


End file.
